Why does somebody else’s bone always look better? When Arrow is sitting around chewing away at something, I want it. It could be something that was laying around all day. As soon as he gets it, I want it. The chew is always tastier when it’s in Arrow’s mouth. He does soften the rawhides up nicely.

Arrow finds something he likes and takes off with it. He goes to the corner of the living room between some furniture. Maybe upstairs in bed. Or on his favorite couch pillow. Somewhere away from me. But I can’t help myself. He’s got it. I've got to have it. Dog nature, I guess.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

It’s been a long week of walks on the leash. We got busted. I was chasing Arrow around on the grass at Cheesman Park very early in the morning, when the doggie police swooped down on us. My owner mom got suspicious of a white van and put us on leashes, but it was too late. She should have tried to run. We’re fast. The doggie policeman came over and asked about where we live. He checked our tags. Stupid Arrow rolled over and let the man rub his belly. I kept my mouth shut and gave him a mean look. My mom has to pay $80.

We don’t run loose in Cheesman anymore. Arrow thinks he's there to run and drags us around. We pass many dignified dogs, but we don’t care. We like to take time and smell the tree trunks. All the them on both sides of the path at once. I sometimes growl at big dogs and Arrow says hi to everyone, two legs or four legs. We stay on the paths, tied to our owner. When I jump on Arrow or he bites my tail it’s: No playing on the leash.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Arrow is still a work in progress. They are trying to get him not to pee on the rugs so there are doggie diapers all over the place. He actually hit one this morning. He is confused about inside and outside. After peeing 347 times outside, he comes in and finishes the job in between chewing things. Some of his favorites: shoes, a watch band (watch attached), those plastic covers on library books, nail files, knitting and yarn, and even his leash.

Yesterday Arrow made such a big mess that my owner mom took me for a ride and left him home. He chewed up plastic bags. He chewed up a plastic CD case and it felt like pieces of glass were on the rug. He found some corn husks and spread them out on the bed. The he got a part of a toilet brush and played chase with mom. She needed a time out from Arrow.

We looked at ski stuff (yawn yawn BORING). Then we went to a place I used to go. I ran around by the lake. After we met a lady and looked at an apartment.

My owner mom introduced me to the lady. “Does he bark?” “No,” my mom said. He’s very quiet.” I save my barks for important things. Besides, I can just give Arrow The Look. But you-know-who barks constantly. When he wants to play. When he wants people to look at him. When he’s in his cage. When he’s happy. When he’s sad.

He’s very quiet, my owner mom said. She never told the lady about Arrow. She even paid extra in case I pee on the floor (which I never do). In the winter, we all go away to the snowy places every Friday. Where will Arrow go? Maybe they can put him on a snowboard.

Tonight my owner mom came home and picked up our food dishes. Arrow and I were VERY excited. Then she mixed in our food. We got rice and hamburger (yum!) and kibble (why?). When I hear the mixing sounds, I like to sit looking up at the counter and smelling everything. But Arrow can’t sit. He runs around and around the island.

She put our food down and told the bearded one she fed us. He said we ate already. He fed us. Double food. What a nice surprise. We were VERY full.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

People think they find dogs, but really dogs find people. I found my owner mom and the bearded one over the internet. Kind of like Match.com for dogs. My mom called and drove to the shelter where I lived. It wasn’t like the big place where I have treat classes. It was in the country, near big farms. The guy who took care of us brought me and a cocker spaniel friend to meet her. When I saw my mom, I knew I was getting a home. I jumped out of the doggie cage and ran around. I was very happy.

They tried to tell her that I might be a little crazy. Hyper. But it was too late. I had already picked her and she had to take me. She knew I was just glad to be free.

The ride to Denver was scary. I had never been in a car, just the back of a truck. I got sick—but that was the one and only time. Then I walked my mom a little at a rest stop. My new house was strange at first. Stairs outside. Stairs inside. I had them carry me up and down the first few times. Now I can fly up and down the stairs.

I think I did a good job finding just the right owners. They usually come when I call them and they are housebroken.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Last Sunday I went to the mountains. Arrow helped with the driving and he didn’t throw up. A new record for him.

We got to meet some dogs in Breckenridge and sample a buffet at a garbage can. Also looked at snowboards with the bearded one.

Then Monday I was off to treat school. I was the best (maybe the only) dog to come when my name was called. With the bearded one handing out treats like crazy, who wouldn’t run over for more? The other doggies are a little slow. He’s trying to get me to stop pulling on the leash. What fun is that?

Sunday, September 9, 2007

When Arrow moved in, I had my favorite buffalo bone. It’s old but it still has a good chew taste. Naturally I didn’t let him near it. He understood.

My owner mom felt bad for Arrow and bought him a new buffalo bone. Bloody and greasy like mine was at first. She gave it to him outside when I was inside. Then she stuck him in his cage with it. He was happy.

This is my house. Everything here is mine. Arrow’s stuff is mine. First chance I got I took his bone. I just gave him the mean look when he wanted it back. He understood.

Yesterday they got me a new bone. All bloody and greasy. Very nice to chew on the couch. Later you can lick the pillows for a snack. Two bones. Everyone should get along. But both are really MINE.

Now there are bones all over the house. Chews too. Two of everything. He can have one for a while. But if I want it, I take it. He understands.

Arrow seems dumb but it’s all an act. He could start an obedience school for humans. Arrow knows how to train them. He can’t give them treats because he doesn’t have any and they can get their own from the magic box. Arrow uses negative conditioning. Barking. Pooping. Peeing.

I used to go for walkies, maybe three times a day. No treats. Just plastic bags. I never pooped or peed on the floor. (Occasionally in other people’s houses just to let their dogs know I’d been there.)

Arrow pooped and peed on the floor a lot. He’d go for a walkie, then come in and poop or pee on the floor. Only on rugs or carpeting. He likes a soft surface.

First they changed our food. Poor widdle Arrow can’t eat straight kibble so they mixed it with hamburger (!) or chicken (!) and rice. To be fair I got the same thing.

He was a little better but he still had his “accidents.” Then they started giving him a treat every time he pooped outside. He poops, then comes over for his snack. To be fair I got the same thing.

Then he started barking. He comes over to my owner mom, looks her in the eye, and barks. Loud. She takes him for a walkie! Poor widdle Arrow can’t hold it. To be fair I get to go too.

She has learned three new tricks. Treats for poop. Cooking for us. Walkies whenever Arrow barks. Almost. He tried at bedtime and the bearded one suggested a muzzle.

My Colorado friend Dobby tagged me AND ARROW! to answer questions using the first letter of our name. Now Arrow is not much of a writer. More of a procrastinator. He spends his days carrying shoes around the house and making confetti out of anything he can fit in his mouth. But finally he is done.

What's Your Name: Arrow4 Letter Word: ArrfVehicle: ATVTV Show: All in the FamilyBoy Name: AlGirl Name: Avalanche (girl doggie)Alcoholic Drink: ArftiniOccupation: Airedale pilotSomething you wear: Ankle BraceletCelebrity: Ashley JuddFood: Anything on the floor-- or anywhere!Something in the bathroom: All sorts of confetti-making supplies in the trashReason for being late: A small shaggy dog stole my boneCartoon Character: (Fat) AlbertSomething you shout: Aaaarrgggg! Let me out of this cage!

Arrow is really part goat. He ate a big piece of paper from a muffin on the sidewalk. He just swallowed it whole. Before that I think he ate a feather.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Arrow is still working on his name thing. Too busy chewing up things to get it done.

Yesterday we went on a hike. Not the dog park but a place we had to be on leashes. A very good sniffing place.

We stayed away from the trails with horses. I don’t hate horses. Probably without their riders bossing them around they're very nice animals. We had a peaceful walk.

Arrow went swimming on the leash! I just got wet. I slipped out of my collar to help the bearded one pick some apples.

We got in the car to go home and I heard growling. I had to go out and investigate. A very unfriendly pit bull was out there. I was just about to straighten him out when some woman pulled me away. I thought that dog would pull his owner's arm off with his leash.

Hope we go back there again. We saw a snake and some poop with acorns in it.

Monday, September 3, 2007

I admit it. I am obsessed with food. There’s other stuff—belly rubs and squeaky toys and running around smelling things—but nothing like food. Treats, meals, and especially people food.

I’m lucky to live in a city where people roam around throwing stuff on the street. And especially in the park, where they have parties and picnics and homeless people. Just two days ago I was off my leash to run home to our door. That’s what my owner mom does. Lets me loose at the end of a walkie. But my nose detected a chicken bone just lying there next to the dumpster, past our stairs. Now she keeps me on the leash all the way home. Not like there’s another chicken bone there. But that’s how they are; after I do something they change stuff.

If food is your life, and you're an only dog, you’re lucky. All the food is yours. Anything you can find, or beg, or climb on the table to eat. All the treats are yours. All the chews and bones are yours. And that’s a good thing. It’s simple. If a dog visits, you can share if you want to. Or if you have to. But when the company goes home, it’s all yours again.

But when a new dog moves in with you and never leaves, all your stuff is now their stuff. It’s not easy. You can hide stuff. You can stand over stuff and give the other dog dirty looks. But you can’t keep it all for yourself. I’m working on it.